Life Goes On
by L'il Senzu
Summary: POST-RENT. Mark's life has changed and as time goes by, he struggles to maintain his new career and life while still keeping in touch with his bohemian family, while his lover struggles to keep him from falling apart. 3rdPOV. Markcentric. Please RR!
1. Career

I wrote a rough draft of this, and even rougher outline, about four years ago. I wasn't expecting to ever finish or post it...it was just a strange thought I had. I was glancing through my old work (in an attempt to distract myself from writer's block of Mocha) and found it today and randomly decided to fix it up a little and here it is. I have three more chapters planned...I _might_ do four, but definitely no more than that. With my Mocha fic that has somehow become very epicly long, I just can't commit myself to another long fic right now. The chapters are also going to be very short.

Please don't let yourself be misled. Many things aren't going to be revealed for a couple chapters...but feel free to comment on anything that may confuse you. Like I mentioned, this really was just a strange thought I had, and it was: We basically have an idea of what is going to happen to the rest of the family, but what happens to Mark years after RENT? I'm going to try to answer that in this fic.

Disclaimer: I do not own RENT or any characters therein.

_Italics_ are Mark's thoughts.

Career

"Is Frederick here yet?" he asked as he continued down the corridor.

"Just got here. Traffic." Marie answered as she walked alongside him.

"There's always traffic. New Yorkers shouldn't drive and Frederick shouldn't always use the same excuse." He sped up, his slight annoyance showing in his tone. "Did you fax the contracts?"

"Sent the last one this morning. However, there's a problem with Cody's. She's going to call you later…"

"Call me later? She's on set in an hour; why can't she just talk to me then?"

"Oh, you know Cody. Girl won't complain about a hair in her soup if the waiters standing there. She doesn't even want to talk to you about it, she's afraid she'll hurt your feelings. But I insisted that you like to handle everything yourself…and that you have no feelings."

He shot her a glare. "Oh nice, thanks." He muttered sarcastically.

She laughed, used to his attitude. "I guess I'm fine with her calling me…although its going to get awkward working with her if I get nightly calls about something that happened seven hours before." He shrugged with a half smile.

Marie laughed. "True…but don't tell her that or she'll stop mentioning anything." She shook her head as she turned down a different hallway leaving him to continue on his way.

"Mr. Cohen?"

He ignored the voice behind him as he kept walking.

"Mr. Cohen?"

Turning, he caught the attention of a tall man with bleached hair, to his right. "Hey Andy, did you talk to Robert?" he asked.

"Yeah. You have a meeting with him at one." Andy answered

"…That's a little late…but oh well, I'll work with it. Thanks, Andy." He finished before continuing on his way.

"Mr. Cohen?" the voice was a little stronger this time.

He sighed, finally turning to face the owner of the voice. "Gerald, how many times do I have to tell you, its Mark."

Gerald blushed slightly. "I'm sorry, Mark, sir." Mark resisted rolling his eyes: he'd pick his battles with this kid. "Mark, sir, um, lighting needs to talk to you."

"Lighting? Tiffany handles that, and if not Tiffany then Robert." Mark responded, obviously confused.

"Well, usually, Mark, sir. But then again, usually Robert doesn't mind if he messes with someone's screenplay so long as he thinks it's a good movie, but this isn't usually. He wants your opinion on everything, sir."

Mark stared at him for a second. "_Robert_ wants my opinion on everything?"

A small, wry grin crossed Gerald's face. "Yes, sir…but his exact words were, "Tell Mark I want his opinion on every little detail…but you may want to mention to him that just because I hear his opinion doesn't mean I'll use it."

Mark laughed. "Okay, that sounds more like Robert. Well, I've got to go talk to production, but I'll stop by lighting on the way back."

"Okay, sir." Gerald said before turning and going back the other direction.

"And stop calling me sir!" he yelled.

Gerald froze before turning to face him for a moment. "Sorry, Mr. Cohen." He stuttered before he hurried off.

Mark groaned, running a hand over his face tiredly. _Oh yeah, I'm going to have to pick my battles._

LINELINELINELINELINE

"What do you mean, you're cutting out Sid?" Mark demanded.

Robert stared at him coolly. "Look, Mark, we're not cutting him out, per say…we're just merging Sid's character with Chloe's character. It won't affect the overall story."

"How can it not affect the overall story? Sid is both the main character's former lover and the one who sets the cocaine arc in motion. He has the vision/dream sequence, which is my favorite scene, by the way. Plus, there's tension between Chloe and Sid the whole time Chloe dates his ex…and how are we supposed to create tension if they're the same person?" he was ranting, he knew it, but he didn't care. _Cut out one of the key characters? Is Robert insane?_

Robert stared at him as if he were a petulant child. "I know Sid is important, but if we keep in every part of your screenplay, wonderful as it may be, may I add, this movie is going to be five hours long. I like your work, Mark, I really do. I wouldn't even be talking to you if I didn't like it, but I told you last time: your screenplays are just too long. They're not viable to make into anything more than a film festival entry, not unless we make some changes."

"Like the changes you made last time? You completely destroyed the ending." Mark accused angrily.

"I'm not going to apologize for that. Your ending was decent…but nobody likes an open ending. It wouldn't have sold, and now look: you made bank, and don't tell me that nomination wasn't worth the creative license I took. …Come on, let's not lie to ourselves…after all, you're here working with me again, and I did promise to include you more for this film simply because of how much I liked your vision. Fuck, you're writing _and _producing it, what more do you want? Now just listen to the idea the other writers cooked up: We morph Sid into Chloe's character. We have her indirectly start the cocaine arc, and we have Nathan, the main character, have the vision/dream sequence…which will work, you'll see. As for the tension…maybe its better for the sales that we don't make it so obvious that Nathan is bi-sexual, anyways….Don't give me that look, I'm not saying we scrap that…we just make implications instead of actually stating it. It'll go over better with more audiences that way. …It'll all work out….Really, no one character is all that important. You'd be surprised how you can make a story still work without a few people."

Mark glared at him for a moment, "You'd best tell me all of the other changes I'm sure you're making, _three weeks before we start shooting, _might I add, so I can at least see what I have to bargain with before we get started."

As Robert started talking, Mark took notes and thought at the same time. Once upon a time, he would've walked out if someone tried to change one of his screenplays…but he already knew that at the end of this talk, he'd force Robert to keep a couple things, and concede to the changes of a few more than that. Things were awfully different now.

LINELINELINELINELINE

Mark sighed as he sat down on the subway. He still couldn't believe that Robert was making such important changes so close to filming, especially since Mark was the producer and Robert was just the director…and the owner of the filming company Mark was working for...

They had everything set up for the current script: the lighting, sets, costumes, actors…Hell, they had even already cast the part of Sid, who was now going to be playing an unnamed friend of the main character who is only seen in three scenes. Mark knew Gary was going to be pissed about that.

But, in the end, it was still a lot closer to his original screenplay than what Robert had done to his last film, which he had only written for. His first film had only been screened three times and, while it was loved by Alphabet City, didn't get much recognition outside of that. His second, which was a large success, he'd written, produced and directed with a handpicked cast and a minimal budget he'd taken a loan out for, and it had won three film festivals. After that, Robert had approached him to buy a screenplay, and he'd had no say in that one at all.

_Maybe I should just be thankful he's letting me co-produce this one…This company does have more power to expose my films than just me by myself._

He had also been doing some filming for other productions by this company, and he got a regular paycheck from that. Sometimes it meant really long hours, though. And he knew sometimes it grated on his loved ones' nerves. But sometimes that had to happen. And despite the fights, the person he cared most about understood… most of the time.

Mark climbed up the long flight of stairs. Unlocking the door, he walked in only to see green eyes coming at him. Suddenly he was enveloped in a deep kiss, burying his hand in slightly unruly hair. They parted after a moment and he grinned.

"Miss me?"

"You better believe it. You're late, again."

"I'm sorry…Robert's been riding my ass all week."

"Well, you let him know that that ass belongs to me." The reply was slightly snappy, but leveled by the playful squeeze to said ass.

Mark chuckled. "Will do." They kissed again, briefly, when Mark noticed an acoustic guitar sitting by the couch. "You brought out your old guitar? You haven't played in ages."

A slight smile and then a sigh. "Yeah…Day off: I got bored earlier…I'm afraid I'm getting a bit rusty."

"A little more practice, and you'll be fine."

"Yeah…I think I'll just put it away… But anyways, enough about that. Tom called."

"Collins? Damn, I haven't heard from him in weeks! How is he?" he asked excitedly as he went and sat down on the couch.

"Oh, just fine. His T cell count is up. The drug trial is really working for him, he thinks. He's still at UCSD, and he said he's been seeing a lot of Maureen and Joanne since they're only three hours away in LA."

"That's wonderful. You tell him that he better visit for Christmas?"

"Of course."

Mark relaxed as the stress from the day eased away. They ate dinner, and then watched TV for a little while. Mark had to admit, he'd been thinking about sex all day, but now that he was home he was more than content just to share the couch and bathe in each other's presence. It was always like that when he worked a lot, though.

After a bit, they went to bed. Mark lay there, thinking for a few moments when he heard, quietly, "Good night, Mark…I love you."

Smiling, he rolled over.

"I love you, too, Grace."

Pressing a kiss to her temple, he relaxed and slipped into sleep.

LINELINELINELINELINE

Please Review! Next chapter should be out in a week or two.


	2. Family

Hello all. So I'm not sure how this story is going over...if there's even any interest...but I'm continuing anyways, just to see where it goes. So I know the first chapter was vague and a little confusing, so let me clarify a couple things now:

This fic takes place almost six years after the end of RENT (RENT ended December 1990, this fic starts in April 1996) and Mark is 29 years old. Collins moved to California to teach at UCSD in January, 1993 and Maureen and Joanne moved to Los Angeles (where Joanne opened her own law practice) January 1996, so just a few months prior to this.

I know there were a lot of characters thrown around in the first chapter. Grace is going to be the only OC actually important to the story. The rest are just the people Mark works with in his filmmaking career.

More information about what has happened in the past six years will be told as the story goes.

I do not own RENT or any characters therein.

Family

Mark finished buttoning up his shirt as he walked into the kitchen.

"Why are you dressed for work?" Grace's voice called at him, confusion nearly masking the subtle note of annoyance to her tone.

Mark sighed as he faced her. "I have to go in for a couple quick meetings."

"You're supposed to have Saturdays off." She reminded him, green eyes glinting in irritation.

He walked over, kissing her apologetically on the cheek. "We start production in less than two weeks. Things are a little chaotic right now. But you know that once all the details are fine-tuned, the ball will be totally in Robert's court… and I can just stand back and watch him ruin my work." He added the last with a wry grin.

"Don't stand back too much, baby. This screenplay was really good. But fine, I guess I can put up with it for another few days." She muttered.

"That's my girl." He kissed her again. "Its only a couple meetings…I'll be home as soon as I can, promise."

"You better. I'm making spinach lasagna tonight."

"Lucky me, married the only woman in the world who can make spinach tasty." He teased lightly before leaving for work.

LINELINELINELINE

Mark smiled as he watched Grace wipe at her forehead, a spot of tomato sauce appearing where her hand touched. _How did I get so lucky to find her?_

Grace paid no mind to her watcher as she continued cooking, humming a few bars of _Eleanor Rigby_ to herself. She was a lovely, petite woman with freckles on her olive toned skin and short cropped, eternally unruly black hair. She worked as a music journalist and wrote her reviews and articles on an antique typewriter she kept in their study, and therefore only worked away from home a couple nights a week. Her clothing of choice was well worn in blue jeans coupled with band tees she got free from reviewing performances all over New York.

She was an incredibly compassionate and loyal woman, and Mark used to wonder how she held her own against all types of musicians, from classical to underground punk, until he watched how she could turn on an amazingly outgoing, motivated, and fearless side on whim. She was capable of great grace and femininity, and alternatively she swore like a sailor, held liquor like a man twice her size, and had a mischievous side the devil would be envious of. She was also prone to dramatic outbursts, hyperactive days, and she got annoyed and impatient easily.

Mark had met her four years back at a small dive called The Pit where she had been the opening act for a smalltime band he, Maureen and Joanne had gone to see. She sang like a rock goddess but it had been her soulful guitar playing and vibrant eyes that had caught his attention. She didn't like to play much anymore, but Mark knew it would never leave her soul completely.

He walked up behind her, kissing her neck gently. "So…remember our conversation last week?" he asked softly.

She turned to face him, wide-eyed. "You mean the one about kids?" she asked incredulously.

He nodded. "Yeah…that very unpleasant 'talk' we had."

"What about it?" her tone was cautious and he couldn't help dropping another kiss on her nape.

"Well…I've been thinking…and I don't think its that unpleasant of an idea after all." He said softly.

"Really?" Hope shone star bright in her eyes. "Are you being serious, sweetheart?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I am… I mean, if this film does as good as Robert thinks, I'll have a full blown career ahead of me and you already practically work from home, so we can finally afford to have a baby. We could make it work… I still think I'm not going to make father of the year…but I'm sure I'll do a better job than my parents…so let's give it a try."

"Well, so long as our kids turn out better than you did. I'm not raising any pussies." She teased.

"And I'm not raising any smart-asses." He teased back.

"Agreed, then. Also, our kids are not wearing anything pink or frilly."

"So long as you don't give them mohawks, I'm cool with whatever…now enough talking about babies, let's get to making some." Mark leered, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

"Oh, but I'm not done cooking!" she protested halfheartedly.

"I'm not that hungry yet anyways." He murmured, pulling her to the bedroom.

LINELINELINELINE

Mark moaned with pleasure, licking his lips clean. _Damn, Grace is such a good cook_. She looked over at him with amusement, taking a bite of her own lasagna

"The Williams invited us over for dinner next Sunday. I knew that was your day off so I told-

"I'm going to see Roger next Sunday. We'll be into filming by then and Robert's not going to need me for anything so I don't have to worry about being on call. I've been planning it for a couple weeks." Mark interrupted her.

She stopped immediately. "Oh." She watched Mark avoid her gaze for a moment before sighing. "So soon? You just saw him, honey."

He looked at her sharply. "Three months….Its been over three months, Grace."

She nodded softly. "Oh…I guess it has…it really didn't feel like that long."

They were silent for a moment before Grace sighed deeply, causing Mark to glare at her. "Do not give me that attitude, Grace. I do not need it right now." She should have been upset by how quickly his good mood had changed, but talking about his old roommate always caused this reaction in him.

"I know, Mark…its just that I don't get….why must you-"

"Don't give me that! You know I have to go."

"No you don't, Mark!" her voice was loud now, almost shouting, almost desperate. "You don't have to go. You don't. Its not like he's going to-"

"Don't say it. I don't want to hear it. I have to go and that's it." He stopped shouting, his voice lowering to just above a whisper as he met her eyes. "I need to go. **I **need to go. You know that's just how it is, Grace."

She stared at him, her eyes glossy and sad. They kept the silence, for a few seconds before she blinked and sighed. "I know, baby, I know…I'm sorry."

They were silent for a few moments before she sighed again, ignoring his glare. "Look just…just be careful okay? …And tell him I said 'hello' when you go." She added softly, knowing that neither of them would bring up the subject again until he left Sunday. Mark didn't like to talk about it.

LINELINELINE

Please review!


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